


JUST LIKE FIRE

by ImmortalRii38



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types
Genre: Angst and Romance, Captivity, District 13, F/M, Hijacking, Manipulation, The Capitol, Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-09
Updated: 2019-02-09
Packaged: 2019-10-25 05:39:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17719136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImmortalRii38/pseuds/ImmortalRii38
Summary: Katniss Everdeen is the rebellion's hope. Peeta's captivity at the hands of the Capitol broke her. Except, if the roles were reversed, what exactly would the future of Panem (and the rebels, for that matter) entail? Where would that leave our precious Mockingjay?





	JUST LIKE FIRE

**Author's Note:**

> An AU setting to the end of Catching Fire, wherein Katniss's choices once again have a momentous affect on all of Panem.

_Excerpt from The Hunger Games: Catching Fire (369):_

_‘This is when Beetee reveals the rest of the plan. Since we move most swiftly through the trees, he wants Johanna and me to take the coil down through the jungle, unwinding the wire as we go. We are to lay it across the twelve o’clock beach and drop the metal spool, with whatever is left, deep into the water, making sure it sinks. Then run for the jungle. If we go now, we should make it to safety.’_

_‘“I want to go with them as a guard,” says Peeta immediately. After the moment with the pearl, I know he’s less willing than ever to let me out of his sight.’_

_‘“You’re too slow. Besides, I’ll need you on this end. Katniss will guard,” says Beetee. “There’s no time to debate this. I’m sorry, If the girls are to get out of there alive, they need to move now.” He hands the coil to Johanna.’_

_‘I don’t like the plan any more than Peeta does. How can I protect him at a distance? But Beetee’s right. With his leg, Peeta is too slow to make it down to slope in time. Johanna and I are the fastest and most sure-footed on the jungle floor.’_

Except something doesn’t feel right. Johanna and I are definitely able on the jungle floor. But so is Finnick. For someone hailing from a district whose environment centers around beaches and particularly equipped at fighting with a trident, he’s not that bad either on land. In fact, aside from me I think he’s the better one in the jungle. Even better than Johanna.

“Why not allow Finnick to go with Johanna? They know each other much better and are well-coordinated together,” I say.

Johanna steps forward instantly. “Absolutely not,” she says angrily. “I know what you’re doing. You want to be left alone with Peeta. Beetee is awful at fighting and we all know it. As soon as Finnick and I’ve gone, I have no doubt you’ll abandon the alliance and take off with your fiancée!”

Apparently, she was not fooled by our act earlier. Peeta’s strained features tell me as such. Even Beetee is eyeing us thoughtfully. There’s no time. My suspicions have just doubled. I don’t trust Johanna, neither Finnick for the matter, and I’m not leaving Peeta. It’s time to play the pregnancy for all it’s worth. I know the Capitol audience must be dying to know why the baby hasn’t been brought up that much anyways. A baby is almost always a fool-proof way to gain sympathy, especially in situations like these.

“That’s not it. I just-I don’t to leave Peeta’s side for the baby,” I say, placing a hand on my belly. It’s flat. Subtly, I shift my fingers to bring the appearance of cradling something in the making. “The games will be over soon, all but one of us dead and I want the baby to be as near Peeta for as long as possible. He’s the father and will never get to see his child born. It’s the least I can do.” Baby. Child. The words feel bitter on my tongue. Because strangely enough, even though the baby is all a lie, I’m not that far off. There’s some truth to my words. I know that one way or the other, after this is all over, Peeta will no longer be at my side. I will most likely be dead. There will be no more hugging or protecting one another. That will all be gone.

Beetee considers this. “Alright, Katniss can stay,” he says after a moment. “Finnick can go with you, Johanna. He runs adequately enough to get the job done.” Relief pours over me. Peeta steps forward, intertwining our fingers. He squeezes my hand. Without looking at him, I know he understands. I will stay with him until the end, when one of us must go. And I’m determined more than ever that it will be me. Peeta will survive.

Johanna gapes at us in disbelief for a moment. Evidently she did not expect this turn of events. Then she snorts in disgust, turning away. “Whatever! She would have slowed me down anyways! It appears the only thing she can do properly is manage to get knocked up!” she snarls. Furious, I open my mouth to retort but Finnick gives me a warning glare. His eyes look strangely puzzled.

“Let it go, Johanna. Let them have their moment.” With a subtle nod at Beetee, he walks down the slope, swinging his trident lazily through the air. Left with no other choice, Johanna follows him. Before she disappears after Finnick though she shoots me one last look of deepest loathing and nods sharply at Beetee. Then she too is gone.

Beetee, sensing our desire for privacy, takes a seat next to the tree and focuses his attention somewhere in the sky above us. I tug Peeta a few yards away, closer to the force field, whispering frantically. He’s still holding the knife with the looped wire. “This is our last chance, Peeta. Finnick and Johanna are close. I bet they’ll wait just long enough for the wire to do its work before the alliance is broken and they come back to kill us. We need to be ahead of them.”

“What, and kill Beetee?” says Peeta, frowning.

“Even if this works, he won’t survive. You know this. Beetee’s not good at fighting, he’s old and slow,” I say. Why must Peeta insist on always being so noble and good-hearted?

Something like exasperation flashes across Peeta’s face. “I know,” he allows quietly. “But I won’t be the one to kill him, alright? He’s decent.”

I step forward and wrap my arms around his waist. He drops a kiss to my head as I mutter, “Johanna and Finnick will be fair game. One of them kills him, then we kill them both.”

“And then what? When it’s just down to you and me, what will happen?”

I bury my face into Peeta’s chest, clinging on tighter. Neither of us answer that. The answer is clear to the both of us. It will be just like last year. Peeta will try to protect me and ensure that I stay alive and me…I will do whatever it takes to get him back home. If I have to kill myself, I will do it I guess. More drama, a tragedy sure to live on. Maybe President Snow will even back off, leave Peeta alone in his misery. There’s no doubt that my death will make him glad despite the sure fury it will also invoke. That’s been his plan all along. To punish me. But if I’m the one to do it, die on my own terms instead of at the hands of one of the other victors…that will be my last act of defiance.

How long we stand there, simply holding one another, I’m not sure. But then I hear the sounds of footsteps, light but not quiet enough. I perk up, pulling away from Peeta. He furrows his brow then apparently hears the footsteps too because comprehension dawns on his face. I put a finger to my lips. Be quiet.

I’m certain it’s not Johanna. Or Finnick. They couldn’t have finished that quickly. And they certainly wouldn’t have come back. Then my eyes land on the wire. No longer straight and plastered to the ground but curled back. It’s been cut.

“Get behind me,” I order, stepping in front of Peeta and pulling an arrow from my back. I secure the notch to the string, eyes scanning the trees. “Beetee! Beetee, the wire! Get away from that tree!”

Beetee glances up, startled. Before he has time to assess the damage done, they come breaking through the trees. It’s the Career tributes, Brutus and Enobaria. Their eyes settle immediately on me and Peeta. Enobaria bares her teeth, grinning wickedly.

“You get the girl, I’ll get the boy,” Brutus growls at Enobaria. She nods and they lunge. Knowing Peeta stands no chance against Brutus, not with that injured leg, I shove him towards Beetee.

“Beetee, knife. Now!” I’m not sure if he understands me but I don’t have time to make sure. I aim at Brutus. My arrow sinks into his calf and he stumbles, screaming. But it’s more out of anger than any real pain. Enobaria gnashes her teeth angrily, drawing closer, her sword poised. I position another arrow, aim at her neck. Let the arrow go. It flies but she at least anticipates my attack and throws herself down at the last second.

Having pulled the arrow out, Brutus is now stumbling towards Peeta and Beetee, who he’s just noticed. His spear is in his hand and it’s ready to fly, right at Peeta, who won’t move away fast enough. No! I cannot let that happen. My next arrow targets his exposed back. A moment of weakness is all it takes. Brutus falls to the ground gasping, fingers clawing at the arrow embedded in his chest. His spear clatters next to him. The cannon fires off a moment later.

One Career dead, one left.

Enobaria gives a true cry of rage. “You filthy rat!” she hisses in a surprisingly Capitol-affected voice. I’m pretty sure that’s the first time I’ve heard her speak. Taking advantage of my momentary surprise, she rolls forward, the sword going along with her. Behind me, Peeta cries out. He knows it’ll be too late. But before the sword makes contact with my body, there’s a sharp zapping sound.

“No!”

I turn. Beetee is sprawled at the base of the tree with a dazed expression; Peeta stands close by, frozen. His knife is sprawled a foot away.

“Katniss!” That’s Finnick’s voice, distant but clear. “Katniss! Peeta!” Johanna must be with him. They’re returning. How? Has the fight been going on that long? Or have they too noticed that the wire has been cut? Do they suspect some foul play is at hand?

Throwing all caution to the wind, I scream, “Finnick, Johanna! Right here!” It works. I can hear them, tearing through the jungle carelessly, no pretense of being quiet. But I can’t protect the three of us, Beetee, Peeta, and myself. By the time Finnick and Johanna get here it will be too late. It’s time. Peeta will know what to do.

“Peeta, stay with Beetee!” I yell. Then I’m running down the slope, away from the tree, away from Finnick and Johanna. Peeta is injured, Beetee slow and old. They’re not a threat. And if they are, Johanna will take care of them. I’m the greater threat now. That’s what Enobaria will assume. And I’m correct. I hear her giving chase a moment later, her footsteps pounding on the hard floor. Peeta shouts my name. I don’t look back but drive farther away from Peeta. If I’m going to die, I’m going to make sure it’s as far away from him as I can, so there’s no chance of my surviving. So she won’t be able to go back and finish him off. Maybe I won’t have to kill Enobaria myself. I am driving both of us away from safety after all, into the next hour of horror.

Not far behind me, I hear someone else following, their footsteps joining Enobaria’s. My heart clenches, thinking it’s Peeta. It’s not, because the voice that screams my name belongs to Finnick, not him. “Katniss!” it cries. “Stop---you’re heading right for the jabberjay area!”

That brings me to a stop. The jabberjays? My mind flashes to a few hours ago. Prim’s screams, Gale, my mother, Madge. Vicky. Rory. Posy. No, I can’t go back there. I cannot. Despite knowing their screams will be false, a mere fabrication, I am certain it will drive me insane, nevertheless.

Abandoning my attempt of fleeing, I throw myself behind some bushes, flatten myself on my belly. Not a second too late. Enobaria appears by the time I’ve managed to clamp a hand over my mouth to stifle my breathing. Through the spaces in the leaves and branches, I make out her form, pacing back and forth. She’s looking for me. Finnick’s not far behind though and he’s stronger and swifter than she is. Without hesitating, she heads for the right, swearing loudly.

When Finnick finally arrives, he pauses for a moment to catch his breath. His trident scrapes against the ground as he leans against a tree. Something silver I haven’t noticed before shines at his hip. His token, I’m assuming. I silently urge him to go on and continue, to follow after Enobaria so I can take my next course of action. He won’t---

“Katniss?” he whispers. I freeze. He can’t possibly know, can he? My nose itches, breathing in the bitterness of the leaves. But I refuse to move and alter him to my movements. If he finds out I’m here, I’ve no doubt Finnick will hesitate to kill me. And Peeta! I left him alone with Beetee, thinking Finnick and Johanna would help them. But if Finnick’s here, then Johanna must have stayed behind. We’re no longer allies. The alliance is broken.

 _Don’t act,_ I tell myself sternly. I shouldn’t. But I shouldn’t have left Peeta behind either. If he dies his blood will be on my hands. Mine. How will I be able to look at myself again if that happens? Peeta’s death at the cost of my stupidity. I left him. I can almost hear Haymitch’s voice, _I can’t believe you let him out of your sight._ No one else will be at fault but me. My failure to protect him.

I’ve almost started to rise, decisive that if I have to kill Finnick I will do it right now, when he is vulnerable and can easily be taken off guard when several bloodcurdling shrieks lent the air, sending birds into startled flight. Instantly, Finnick straightens and he takes off in the direction Enobaria took, his skin glistening even in the dark from the medicine. “Katniss!” he bellows. His voice has barely faded into the jungle when I spring to my feet.

I move as quickly as I can. Gripping the bow in one hand, I tear through the trees and undergrowth, not bothering to be silent. Someone will die in a very short matter of time. Brutus I killed, leaving Peeta, Finnick, Johanna, Chaff, Enobaria, and me. It can’t be Finnick and it’s not me so that leaves only four people. And with the number of tributes so low and fear running high, I don’t think it matters who we are to one another. Friend, enemy, ally.  Kill first, ask questions later, that’s what’s going on through the heads of the others. It’s everyone for themselves now. Stricken with a sense of urgency, I force myself to go faster. I need to reach Peeta first and protect him as best I can.

I’m only under two hundred yards when Peeta screams. His voice is raw and anguished, the sound of someone being tortured. The very thing I’ve been fearing. Terror bubbles up inside of me. Clutching at the stitch in my side, now struggling to draw in the simplest of breaths, I press down with all the power I have. My legs burn in protest but Peeta’s crying is so horrible, tearing away at my insides, peeling off my defenses to leave behind a pool of sorrow, that I imagine he is just a breadth away from death. The physical pain will be nothing compared, I suspect, to what will happen to me if I allow it to happen---if I fail Peeta. Again.

“Peeta!” I attempt to say but I just manage a choked gasp. Then he stops making noise. The air goes silent. My blood freezes. No. He can’t be dead. _He can’t_. I spin around, looking up at the sky wildly. He isn’t dead. Impossible. No wait. Did the cannon fire? Yes. No? I’m not sure. _Peeta_.

The cannon booms.  

When the hovercraft appears, I almost lose it. It’s come to collect Peeta’s body, I’m sure of. Except it doesn’t head for the lightning tree. It heads for the opposite side of the beach. Where Enobaria and Finnick are. Sort of in a daze, I watch as the hovercraft drops down. Once. Twice. Six times. Then it retreats back into the sky and disappears. Momentary relief has me collapsing to the ground. Peeta’s not dead then. He’s alive. Injured…but alive. Scrambling to my feet, I continue the stagger up the sloping hill. The insects are still buzzing, which means there’s still time until the lightning strikes the tree. But at any moment I know that buzzing will stop. I need to reach Peeta, get him out. Now.

But when I reach the lightning tree, I find an unwelcome surprise. The gold wire is still looped around the trunk, trailing on the ground. I look around wildly, looking for anyone else. No one. Except not quite. Up ahead, Beetee is still lying on the ground. The knife is nowhere to be seen, nor is Peeta. But, I notice with no small horror, blood covers the dark ground, glistening in the light slanting through the trees. And it’s a lot of blood. Enough that the victim is sure to not make it out alive.

With frightening certainty, I understand that this is not just anyone’s blood. That blood, splattered like paint on the jungle floor, belongs to Peeta. What did they do to him? Cut him open? Is that what produced those horrible sounds? I edge forward, eyeing the area warily, on guard in case of I attack. But there is no one else. Only Beetee, still lying where he was when I first appeared. “Beetee?” I hurry to his side, kneeling to check his pulse. It beats in his chest, which is a slight reassurance. He’s unconscious then, not dead. There are no visible injuries except for a gash below the crook of his elbow. I sit back on my haunches, debating. Then I rip some moss and hastily wrap it around his arm. Perhaps it’s not my best work but at least it will stench the flow of blood.

This is when I take notice of that fact that the missing knife is in his hand. The wire it still attached to it. Puzzled, I stand and lift the wire, confirming it’s still attached to the tree. Squinting up the hill, I also notice something else: we’re only a few steps away from the force field. That’s when it occurs to me. Beetee must have tried to drive the knife into the force field as Peeta had accidentally done. But for what? A means of self-defense? Would it have even helped? Would it work? My mind flashes to the force field I saw back in the Training Center. That was invisible whereas this one here in the arena seems to mirror the jungle. But I’ve seen it falter when Peeta’s knife struck it and when my arrows hit. The real world lies beyond it.

I’ve been too busy frowning at the force field up ahead until now to realize the buzzing has lessened. The sound which indicates the hour mark is dying out quickly and leaving behind the usual sounds of the jungle. Beetee’s useless. He’s unconscious, might as well be dead. I can’t help him. I’m still not sure what he was attempting to do with the knife and the wire and the force field but it’s not a time to ask questions. As it is, he can’t explain and I have to leave, head to safety. The lightning is sure to strike me if I don’t.

With a slight pang of regret, I turn, once again concentrating on eliminating the enemy. Before I die I must leave the way clear for Peeta. Finnick or Enobaria I’ll find and kill, since one of them has died. Then Johanna and Chaff. If that’s not possible I’ll do what I can to better Peeta’s chances of winning. One enemy. That I can leave. He can deal with them. Yes, that sounds alright.

However, as I walk away from Beetee, a sound rises over the trees, one that makes me go still with dread. “Katniss!” Peeta’s voice is far away but if I can hear him from here, there’s no doubt the others will too. And he must know by now that everyone else is hunting us. So what is he doing? The answer forms in my mind instantly. Even hurt and alone, Peeta is protecting me. Ensuring that they get to him before they get to me.

Wherever he is, he is too far. I won’t be able to reach him in time. He’ll be dead in a matter of moments. I do the one thing I know will drive the attackers away from him and to me. “Peeta! I’m here! Peeta!” _Yes, come on_ , I think. I’ll draw the enemy in, away from him, to me and the lightning tree will soon be the cause of their demise. “Peeta!” He won’t make it of course.

As it did earlier, my plan works again. I can hear them coming. Two pairs of footsteps. This time I stand my ground. I will fight. Quietly, I crouch down next to Beetee, positioning my bow and arrow. Taking them out will leave two less opponents. Three when I put Beetee to sleep forever. _It’ll be a better death than the others will give you_ , I think bitterly.

Enobaria and Finnick break into the clearing. With my skin ointment, I’m camouflaged by the trees. They can’t see me. It’ll be easy to put an arrow through both their throats. End it over with. My fingers hesitate on the arrow though. I think of the times Finnick helped me, how he kept Peeta alive when I couldn’t. I can’t kill him. My debts to him are too high. So I home in on Enobaria’s neck. If he has any shred of intelligence, Finnick will have enough sense to duck behind the tree for cover before the lightning bolt strikes. Then it won’t be me that will kill him really but the lightning. His fault.

“Katniss!” Peeta’s voice. Even though I don’t answer him this time I hold his voice close to me, memorizing it for the last time. Beetee gives a faint moan. He and I will soon die. They will die. Chaff and Johanna will die. Peeta will live. Taking a deep breath, I stand carefully, aiming. And Finnick, clever after all, spots me. His face settles.

“Do not shoot!” he says, throwing up his hands. Enobaria, who prowls near the edge of the clearing, crouches, her malice-filled eyes settling on me with a grin. I narrow my eyes. What are the chances I can shoot one of them before the other is on me?

As an answer, I stand straighter, pulling the arrow taut. Finnick’s face ripples with the first sign of anxiety.

“Katniss,” he calls loudly. “Remember who the real enemy is.” Funny coming from a tribute pointing his trident at me. But enemy…

 _Enemy. Enemy._ The words tugs at a recent memory. Drawing it forth. Haymitch’s characteristic scowl. _“Katniss, when you’re in the arena…_ ” The scowl. The misgiving. “ _What?_ ” I hear my own voice tighten as I bristle at some unspoken accusation. “ _You just remember who the real enemy is_ ,” says Haymitch. “ _That’s all._ ”

Haymitch’s parting words. His last bit of advice. Why would I need reminding? I’ve always known who the real enemy is. Who starves and tortures and kills us in the arena. Who will soon kill everyone I love.

My eyes flit to Beetee’s knife. To the sky, which is dark. The beginnings of thunder, roiling. Blue flashes. Comprehension hits. Without taking my eyes off Finnick, I bend to retrieve the knife. I slide the wire from the hilt, wrap it around and around the tip of the arrow. Tie a knot taught to me in training. Finnick looks up at the sky, then at me. I can imagine the color drains from his face.

“Katniss, get away from that tree!” Instead of listening, I spread my feet and tilt back slightly to get the proper angle. There. The wavering square of energy. “Katniss _, get away from that tree_!” Finnick begins running towards me, already anticipating my next move. To do what I’m not sure. Stop me maybe. But it’s too late. My fingers release the arrow, see it fly into the force field, the gold wire trailing behind it. Finnick’s next words are drowned out as the lightning strikes. And the flash of pure-white…it targets us. We go flying backwards, hard, and I land hard, paralyzed, rendered useless. Feathery bits of matter rain down. _Peeta,_ I think. He’s so far away. I can’t reach him anymore than I can my pearl. I look up at the sky to find a star—one last glimpse of beauty.

Just as I find a star, the first explosions start.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
